


Not So Brilliant

by YellowBananaOwl



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-27
Updated: 2015-02-27
Packaged: 2018-03-15 13:10:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3448370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YellowBananaOwl/pseuds/YellowBananaOwl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur isn't having the best day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not So Brilliant

Not so brilliant

Arthur looked at the time. How could it be only 5:15? Why couldn't it be proper morning already? He hadn't slept more than an hour combined through the whole night and he just wanted to get up, have some breakfast and get home. 

He had no idea why he hadn't been able to sleep. The bed was a lot more comfortable than most beds he usually slept in while travelling, he was tired when he went to bed, he hadn't had any coffee late in the evening, and there was nothing bothering him. Well, at least not until he realised he couldn't sleep.

Arthur had been checking the clock what seemed to be every 20 minutes during the night with one exception where he apparently had had a little nap between 3.58 and 4.34. Now his stomach was growling and Mum had given him strict instructions not to take _anything_ from the mini bar. Breakfast didn't start in yet another 45 minutes. 

What kind of breakfast did they have in Sweden? Arthur started fantasising. He hoped there would be bacon and eggs. And beans! And those little sausages. And toast. But what if they only had pickled herring? Eurgh! Who would want _that_ for breakfast? No, they had to have at least toast! This was a nice hotel, there had to be a nice breakfast. And coffee. He really wanted coffee now.

5:24. It was getting closer. Arthur decided to take a long hot shower and then see if there was anything fun on the telly while he waited for the clock to turn six.

He got out of bed and went into the bathroom. He took off his pyjamas and stepped into the bathtub which was also a shower. He looked at the taps and knobs and wondered why the people who made showers couldn't just agree on one way to make them. Every shower was different, and it took him forever to understand how they worked. He had no idea how many times he had burned himself because he had accidentally tampered with the temperature before figuring out what was the knob that made the water run through the shower-head instead of the bath tap, or the number of times he had meant to draw a bath and ended up spurting water all over the bathroom because the water came through the shower-head.

He took a deep breath and tried one of the knobs. A stream of ice-cold water hit him with such force Arthur almost fell over and tore down the shower curtain. He luckily managed to stay on his feet and not do any damage to himself or the bathroom, but it took ages for the water to get to the right temperature. In addition, the annoying curtain had decided not to hang straight down, but to cling constantly to his body. Arthur sighed heavily. This day was so far anything but brilliant.

The shower didn't last as long as he had intended, and Arthur turned off the water, wrapped a towel around his waist and went back into his room. He turned on the telly, but all he could find was either boring adverts about bras or children's telly in what he assumed was Swedish. And the clock still only showed 5:38.

Arthur got dressed and went through all the drawers to recover his things so he could pack them.

When the clock turned 5:58, Arthur was dressed, packed and extremely hungry and quite grumpy. He made his way to the breakfast room and the second he stepped into the room, his mood changed. 

The display before him was very promising, and for the first time since he went to bed in Stockholm, Arthur smiled. There were lots of different types of bread, eggs, bacon, beans, potatoes and different cereals, vegetables, fruits and juices.

He grabbed a plate and headed straight for the eggs and bacon section. He ladled heavily onto his plate before grabbing two pieces of toast to go with it. He found a free table, put down his plate, and went to get beverages. 

Arthur almost jumped with joy when he saw several juice pitchers in the corner. There were apple juice, orange juice and a paler yellow that could only mean one thing: Pineapple juice! He would get pineapple juice for breakfast! Arthur poured himself two glasses and went back to his table. The day was saved. Breakfast would be nice and he got pineapple juice!

Arthur lifted one of the glasses to his lips and took a big gulp of the yellow drink.

BLARGH!

The juice sprayed all over his food. It was bitter and horrible! This wasn't pineapple juice! This was freaking grapefruit! WHY?

Arthur moaned loudly and his head met the table with a heavy thump.

Who in their right minds would ever choose grapefruit juice on purpose? Why did a nasty thing like grapefruit juice even exist?

This day was not going to be brilliant. Not at all.

**Author's Note:**

> Arthur Shappey sadly doesn't belong to me. He's the product of John Finnemore's clever little brain, and that means he also owns him.


End file.
